Izumi's Album
by Wild Rhov
Summary: Izumi has a special album for when he wants to fantasize. But just who does he daydream about?


_Disclaimer: "Yankee-kun to Megane-chan" is the property of Miki Yoshikawa. I make no profit...sadly. _

_Wow, this is the first Rated M fanfic for YKTMC. I feel like I'm breaking in a virgin, LOL!_

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><p><strong>Izumi's Album<strong>

a _Yankee-kun to Megane-chan _fanfic

by Rhov

Being in university didn't change much for Izumi. He was still short and hated it. Shinagawa was still an ass, and Adachi was still oblivious. How she managed to pass her classes was a miracle. Chiba spent most of his time with his girlfriend Makoto. They were practically engaged now.

Izumi found himself hanging out with Himeji more. After all, she was shorter than him, so that made him feel better, she wasn't quite as annoying as she had been in high school, she was pretty...

Scratch that. She was beautiful! The past couple years had been amazing, watching her transform and blossom.

Or was it just him?

Why didn't Adachi mention how pretty Himeji had gotten? Izumi kept expecting Shinagawa to notice and make a move on her, but his mind was so narrow, he'd probably never lose sight of his Hana.

He looked at a picture hanging in his dorm room of the gang in their second year of high school. They looked so young and idiotic! He compared Himeji's face to how she looked now. She had changed her hair, let it down. It was so straight and soft in the wind. Seeing her in regular clothes instead of a uniform was a nice change too. She had quite a fashion sense. Her smile was wide, and her eyes shined when she laughed.

Hardly knowing it, Izumi's hand drifted down. Just adjusting his boxers, right? Just... adjusting...

He knew the symptoms. He cursed that this problem had to pop up right now. At least he was in his dorm room, and his roommate Chiba would be out all night. Izumi laid on his bed and pulled out a photo album. He didn't even have to hide it; he made sure the album was not erotic enough to be suspicious. There were pictures of all his friends, but there were slightly more pictures of Himeji.

A beach party, Himeji in a bikini bending over to grab a beach ball so that her breasts were practically exposed.

A summer festival, Himeji wearing a kimono and sucking on a chocolate-dipped banana, her mouth wrapped around it, savoring the erotic sweetness.

Izumi sneered and bit his lip in frustration as he worked to get his pants undone. Finally the belt was off. He kicked the pants and boxers down to the foot of the bed, then hid under the covers just in case someone peeked through the window. Adachi did that once while he was masturbating. Luckily she didn't see enough to figure out what he was really doing, and he somehow convinced her it was a "prostate self-examination." She bought it and agreed not to tell anyone that he was concerned about his prostate health.

With the sheets covering him, Izumi put just a little lotion on, enough to make this feel real good so it would be over with fast. Then, determined to get over his erection problem with expedient professionalism, he looked at the photos and let his mind fantasize.

Himeji wearing that tight bikini, her nipples hard in the cold ocean breeze, hard and soft at the same time. He imagined her panting as he sucked on those breasts. He pictured her flushed face and heated eyes, her gasps and moans. It was easy to imagine, and it made him harder.

Next picture: the banana. He imagined her sucking him. His hand slid slower, trying to mimic what she might do, imagining it was her tongue licking over the tip. Izumi hissed when he felt precum already there. He imagined her licking it, smiling, commenting on the taste, before diving back down and swallowing him.

"Fuck," he whispered.

His speed increased. He needed to get this over with before anyone called or came over to visit.

He flipped to the back of the album. It was a picture of the whole group, but Himeji was sitting gruffly, her knee hiked up, her skirt way too high, and if you looked carefully...

She had not worn underwear that day.

It was totally visible. Black curls. Pink lips. The slit was barely opened due to her posture.

"Oh damn, I wanna fuck that," Izumi moaned.

Of course, she was the sort who would want to be on top. Izumi imagined it, her sitting on him, riding him, holding onto his chest as she rocked herself hard on him. She even gave a playful "Yee-haw," that naughty cowgirl! All he had to do was lie there and admire her, compliment her, tell her she was a bad girl, maybe give her a little spank and feel how it made her tighten up around him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

He didn't even need the photo album anymore. The fantasy was in full swing. He bucked his hips up to meet her, to stab into her harder, to make her scream his name.

"Gaku! Gaku!"

"Rinka," he whispered aloud. "R-Rinka!"

He heard moans and screams in his mind as his body lost control. He barely remembered to grab tissues, and he tensed up with her name on his drawn lips.

"Rinka-a-a!"

He came hard. His rushing blood buzzed and made him numb to all sensation except warm ecstasy. A few extra thrusts, then he felt too sensitive. For a while, he heard nothing but his own heartbeat. Izumi panted to catch his breath as he slowly floated down out of fantasies and to the reality of messy tissues and scattered clothes.

Just then, his cellphone began to play music. He cursed, carefully answered it with his clean hand, and tried to speak normally.

"Izumi here."

"Yo! It's Himeji. I was gonna head out for some takoyaki. You up for it?"

_Up for it?_ Oh yes he was! Or at least, he had been a minute ago. "Who else?" he asked, looking down at the messy tissues.

"Just me. If you don't like that, screw you."

"No, I... give me ten minutes."

"Why? You in the middle of jerking off?"

"Shut up, shortie. I just need to fix my hair. I'll meet you in ten."

"Don't use your cum as hair gel, okay?"

"Fuck you." Then he hung up. Izumi leaned back against his pillow. "Damn, I wanna fuck you, Rinka."

He was crazy for her. Maybe obsessed. But she was his friend. They had been friends since high school. Changing that... it'd change everything.

Or was it just him?


End file.
